


Pictures of Us

by Lilyrain



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguing, Art Shows, Dating, Developing Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Meetings, Getting to Know Each Other, Kid Fic, Kissing, Making Out, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Single Parents, Table Sex, artist!Clarke, history nerd!Bellamy, safe sex because
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilyrain/pseuds/Lilyrain
Summary: Bellamy's got a great life, but something's making everyday life hard. Raven says he needs someone to take care of. Octavia says he just needs to finish school. But after a whirlwind of an artist enters his life, he finds he's got no complaints except not being close enough.





	1. The Art Gallery

**Author's Note:**

> Soo it's been a while since I posted. I've been struggling a bit, but hopefully I can come back with semi-regular updates. More tags as I add to the story. Critiques are always a gift. I've been planning this one for a while so I hope you enjoy it.

It had started out like any other Tuesday. Bellamy had ran late to class, which was embarrassing enough when he was just the TA, but today he had been given the chance to teach. It didn’t help matters that he had coffee all over his shirt and pants, unable to change if he wanted to make it to the class at all. To top off the shit show that was his pre 10:00 morning, he’d left his lecture notes at the coffee shop. 

 

He considered this an average weekday, because he feels he should expect it at this point. He’s a mess, or at least his day to day life is. His life as a whole isn’t even that bad, nothing like it was when he was a kid trying to take care of his family. His mother mostly has her shit together, and Octavia’s in college, happy as ever with a roommate and a part-time job. He had his own job as a security guard, plus graduate school and  _ teaching hours _ . One more year after this one  and he’ll have a PhD. He has his own apartment, not even a roommate, and it has a terrance. 

 

He likes his life, he does. When he looks at the big picture his life is perfect. It’s the everyday that gets him. Even when they were little and near-starving, he and Octavia had always enjoyed the little things. Problem is, everytime he tries to find the ones he has now, he has days like this. Which is, unfortunately, becoming more and more often. 

 

He says as much to Raven at lunch. She gives him a long look, with one eye half squinted like she’s trying to figure something out. “You should get a dog.” She nods her head as she speaks, seemingly have made a decision of great importance. He gives her his best ‘come on, seriously’ look. She raises her hands defensively, “ Hear me out, you like taking care of people. Feeding them, cleaning up after them,  _ worrying _ about them. You’re a mother hen, and in the absence of eggs all your anxious energy goes into fucking your life up.”

 

He wants to argue, but she’s not wrong. “So yeah, a dog. Or a girlfriend that doesn’t mind your grumpy mothering.” She smirks, so obviously pleased with herself. He’s honestly a little offended with how many times she referred to him as a mother, but Raven Reyes is always right. She doesn’t even bother speaking unless she knows she’s right. With a sigh he concedes, “Well let me know if you find someone.” He ignores the way her eyes light up with mischief, “My building doesn’t allow pets, except reptiles, the landlord loves reptiles.”  He adds as an afterthought. 

 

She continues to grin, but the conversation is dropped in favor of his thesis. Raven finished her PhD three years ago, and has been his academic sanity for longer than that. She’s terrible at english, worse at history, and doesn’t have the damndest clue who Nero Is. But she’s confident, brilliant and great at time management. Plus, she can always point out where he needs more research, because what he’s written his clearly bullshit. 

 

She doesn’t mention it again until three weeks later. She walks into their biweekly lunch and puts a flyer directly on his half empty plate. He gives her a dirty look as she sits down and unpacks her laptop. It’s for an art show at the fancy gallery a few blocks from his apartment. He doesn’t hate art, just doesn’t understand most modern artists. He’s about to ask why she thinks he’ll like it when he notices the theme. It’s one artist's work, which he knows enough to know is unusual for this gallery, but it says that the pieces are all inspired by ancient Rome. He raises an eyebrow and she smirks. “You’re going to love it. Even better, my friend will be there and you’re going to love her.”  

 

He gives her a look, ready to give his default response of ‘I don’t need to be set up’, but knowing him like she does she stops him with a raised hand. “Before you object, she’s fucking awesome, and just last month you said I could find someone for you.” It’s not exactly what happened, but she probably believes it is. 

 

With a sigh of defeat he looks back at the flyer. It’s this saturday, he could probably get Octavia to go with him, she’s been really into art lately. He wouldn’t even mind being set up that much, with the crowd and art to distract them. Plus, Raven has great taste in people most of the time. The exception obviously her personal dating choices, but she set Miller up with Bryan and now they’re getting married. 

 

He waits until friday to ask his sister to go with him. They’re having dinner in his apartment, her feet on the coffee table and some apocalypse show on the T.V. in the background. She’s just finished telling him about her paper, taking a bite of food. “Hey, are you busy tomorrow night?” He looks anywhere but her. He should be able to go to social events alone by now, but he really doesn’t want to. Plus, she can save him if Raven’s extremely wrong. 

 

She’s silent until he looks at her, when he does she gives him a look that says she doesn’t have time for his bullshit. “There’s an art show.” He hands her the flyer, not mentioning Raven’s friend. She furrows her brows, studying the flyer. Then she laughs, bright and sudden. “Raven’s got me and Harper going to this already. But yeah, I’ll be your social buffer.” She rolls her eyes, still smiling. “Of course you want to go, Roman art! You should have been my first thought!” 

 

Somehow, he manages not to mention the date, is it a date? Technically, he just knows she’ll be there and Raven thinks he’ll like her. There was no mention of an actual date. He won’t admit it to her, but that’s probably why he could agree, and why Raven did it. Sometimes she’s too clever for Bellamy’s comfort. 

 

The next day his sister shows up and goes straight to his closet. In usual Octavia fashion, she orders him into clothes she approves of, and then gets into a fight with his hair. When she’s deemed him ‘acceptable to be seen with’, they head out. “I told Harper we could pick her up.” She informs him from the passenger seat. He sighs, but takes the familiar root to the house she shares with Monty and Jasper. 

 

When she’s in the car, her grin tells him she’s conspiring with Octavia. His sister’s face becomes a mirror image, and though he gives them a questioning look, they both just shrug. It’s not until they’re almost to the gallery that Harper speaks up. “So Bellamy, tell us about the girl you’re meeting.” 

 

He shouldn’t be surprised. He should wonder why they waited so long to grill him. He should just turn around and forget this whole thing. Instead he just follows their example of nonchalance. “I don’t know anything, she’s Raven’s friend.” They stop at a red light, and he watches the two girls share a look. “Raven won’t tell us either.” Octavia half-whines. 

 

“Well if I knew anything, I would tell you.” He assures. He’s spared continuing the conversation by arriving at the gallery. They all get out and go inside, Raven finding them immediately. She’s dressed in a red cocktail dress, looking disapprovingly at Bellamy. “I told you the dark blue pants, not the black ones.” She glares at Octavia, who just flips her hair and says, “I made a decision, you should thank me.”  

 

Raven sighs, defeated. “Whatever, whatever. Let’s go look at some paintings.” The girls walk together, with Bellamy lagging slightly behind. The paintings themselves are amazing. They look like the artist tried to make in as abstract as possible, while still making a full scene. He’s never seen anything like it, and the style itself intrigues him. He doesn’t even find himself upset at subtle inaccuracies in some of the paintings. 

 

He’s studying a painting of a collosim, filled with people watching a man fight with a figure that’s half-man and half-bear, having long lost the girls, when he feels someone step up beside him. “I don’t really understand the appeal.” He turn to the voice, sweet but not sugary, to meet the crystal blue eyes of woman. She has a smile on her face, one that reaches her eyes and spills light from them. He gets caught up her eyes, in how beautiful they are. It’s not until the light in her eyes dims a little that he realises he never responded. 

 

“Um, sorry?” He stutters out. He feels his cheeks heat up, embarrassed with how smooth that wasn’t. Her smile brightens then, impossibly so. “The appeal. To watching people fight things or other people.” She elaborates. He thinks for a moment, tries to see past the fog in his brain because her eyes. Luckily, he’s written a paper on collosim entertainment and it’s importance, so at least he’s well versed in the topic. “People fight everyday, sometimes it’s nice to see someone else do it for once.” 

 

She considers his words, and he can’t help but fall a little. Sue him, he has a thing for intelligent girls, with blue eyes apparently. “So you feel pain, and then find pleasure in seeing someone else feel it?” Her brows furrow as she speaks, obviously upset with her conclusion. He shrugs, gaining some semblance of casualness back. “Didn’t say it was right, just that we do it.” 

 

She nods, turning back to the painting. They chat as they walk around the gallery, sometimes talking about the pieces, sometimes about other things. Sometimes, they just stand there, admiring the artwork in compatible silence. He doesn’t ever ask her name, nor does she ask his. He gets caught up in her, her laugh and opinions, and her eyes. 

 

Eventually, Octavia comes over and breaks him out of his haze. “Bellamy! Come on, Rav said to find you.” She grabs his arm, eyes the girl next to him suspiciously. The blonde just raises her hands defensively. “Didn’t mean to intrude. I’ve kept him long enough anyway.” She smiles softly at him, making his heart skip a beat even as it falls. 

 

“Great! Come one.” His sister drags him away before he can get a word out. He opens his mouth to ask what her problem is, but she stops abruptly, causing him to crash into her. “What the hell is your problem?” She demands, arms crossed. His confusion takes over his face, causing her to become even more irritated. “Raven has an amazing friend, who you are here to see, and you spend an hour laughing and talking with some random person! Since when do you even know how to talk to strangers that aren't in bars?”

 

He closes his eyes in realization. How could he be so stupid? He had agreed to a date, or something like it. “Sorry, O. I just got caught up I guess.” He tries to explain, rubbing his hand through his hair. “It’s not me you need to apologize to.” She states plainly, much more calm now. They wait in awkward silence for a while until he’s startled by, “Are you ready?” Raven appears out of nowhere. He shakes his head and she leads the way, his sister staying behind. 

 

They stop at an office door, which confuses him. “She’s in here, wait outside.” She orders and he takes a seat in the chair by the door. He’s not sure what to expect, but considering he can’t get the blue eyed woman out of his head he doesn’t think it will go well. Surely no one coming through that door could compare, he doesn’t even know someone who comes close. 

 

The door swings open, and he braces himself for what he now realizes was a very bad idea. 

 


	2. Walls and Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy meets the girl he's being set up with, and they don't hit it off right away. But who knows, a little argument might be good as far as starts go. At least he gets to see the girl he had been talking with.

“I told you I don’t want to be set up!” He hears the voice before he sees either of them. He also recognises the voice, sweet but not like sugar. He’s sure he has a deer in the headlights look when they step fully into the hallway and he meets her eyes. The blue lights burn with a different fire now, something more angry. 

 

It takes her a moment, but he sees the recognition cross her face. She frowns, thinking, then her face twists into a full on scowl. “You don’t even have the decency to tell me who you are?!” She half-shouts. He sits there, trying to figure out what she’s asking. “What?” He hears Raven demand. Her eyes never leave his as she talks to her. 

 

“This asshole,” She points at him accusingly, “Spent an hour talking to me and didn’t tell me he was your friend.” She crosses her arms, and he finally catches up to what’s happening. He stands, fast enough to get a little light headed, and mirrors her stance. “We didn’t even mention names, how the hell was I supposed to know who you are?” He spits, on his best defense. 

 

He watches her face as she processes what he’s said, but the hard lines her face has set in don’t move. “Well you could have told me your name.” It’s a weak argument, and he can tell she knows it. He raises an eyebrow, challenging her. She rises to it, “What are you even doing hanging out with people when you’re suppose to be meeting someone?” 

 

His cheeks heat with embarrassment. Why did he? She’s like a whirlpool and he got sucked in, unable and unwilling to get out. “Well why were you?” He throws out, a smirk sneaking onto his face. Her mouth opens with an argument, but it dies on her tongue. She stand there, mouth agape before Raven’s voice snaps both their attentions to her. 

 

“Could you guys please eyefuck somewhere else? You know, somewhere with less Raven to witness it?” He hears her huff, finds pleasure in her frustration. With that Raven leaves, but he barely notices, his attention back on the blonde in front of him. “So, anything else you want to yell at me about?” He can hear his smirk leaking into his voice. 

 

She stomps her foot. His lips turn into a full blown smile. There’s something about her frustration that is satisfying as hell. They stand there for a moment, eyes connected in an impossible and silent standoff. He can feel tension pick at the skin on his neck, and he notices he’s incredibly aroused. He opens his mouth, but she cuts him off by surging forward and dragging his lips down to meet hers. 

 

Her lips are firm and decisive, soft but unyielding. She’s someone who knows what she wants and has no problem taking it. He doesn’t have to think to kiss her back with equal fire, his hands tangling in her hair immediately. She kisses him and it’s like it’s his first all over again. He can’t help the groan that comes from deep in his chest when she pushes herself flush against him. Her body molds to his so well, he swears it’s like they were made for each other. 

 

When they pull away, both gasping for air, he takes in their position. He’s somehow against the wall, and he doesn’t remember moving his hands but they’re on her waist, holding her to him. He catches her eye, and they stand frozen for a moment before she lets out a soft chuckle. He joins in, and through their laughing he never lets go, but she doesn’t make a move to push him away.

 

“Bellamy.” He says, once they're both calmed and comfortable as they silently look at each other. She gives him a inquisitive look, “Yeah, that’s my name.” He elaborates. The grin that slowly creeps onto her face is a little feral, but so damn hot. “Clarke.” She supplies, and then she’s kissing him again, just as passionate but slower, deeper. Her hands move from his neck and roam his chest and back. Only as he lets his own hands roam does he remember they’re in a hallway that anyone could walk into. 

 

He pulls back, revels in her whimper that he’s sure she didn’t mean to let past. She tries to chase his lips but he shakes his head, “Is this your office?” She squints, thinking hard and he’s so damn proud he could clear her mind like that. When she gets what he’s asking, her eyes light up mischievously. 

 

She practically drags him across the hall, flinging the door open and pulling him inside. He barely has time to register that it’s not really an office, but a studio, before she’s on him again. Then her hands are in his hair and her lips are on his, and he couldn’t care less where they were. 

 

He lets his hands roam over her. He pulls her closer, letting her tongue fight with his in a graceful battle for dominance. She tugs his hair, pulling a moan from him. She smirks victoriously, and he decides he won’t let her win. His hands go to hips, purposefully sliding lower until he’s groping her ass. It’s her turn to moan, and he uses the moment to lift her up, spinning them around pressing her into the wall. 

 

Her legs wrap around his waist, and he pins to the wall with his hips to free his hands. He kisses at her neck, soft and teasing until she whines for more. His hands slide up her sides, pushing her shirt up as he goes. He feels goosebumps and soft skin, and he’s overcome with the need to taste it. She shifts to help him take it off, her hands flying to help him with his without looking where hers goes. 

 

As soon as his clothes joins hers on the floor, his hands are back on her. She’s in black bra, edged with lace and breasts spilling over the top. He takes a moment to gawk at her, until she giggles, embarrassed at the amount of attention he’s paying to her chest. Then he gives her his best glare, before dipping his head down to kiss and lick and bite at her chest. He starts with one breast, giving it attention with his mouth while his hand messages the other. She moans and sighs, rutting her hips like she’s desperate for more, and it spurs him on. 

 

He slowly moves across her chest, getting distracted biting at her collarbone until she tugs his hair and groans. When he makes it to her left side he pulls the cup of her bra down, then wastes no time sucking her erect nipple into his mouth, treating it with flashes of his teeth and tongue. She whines, low and filthy and so damn hot he’s the one with his hips thrusting into hers. 

 

“Bellamy.” She half begs, and he releases her abused flesh with a filthy pop. He takes her in, her chest mostly exposed and shiny from his attention, rising and falling quickly. Her eyes are alight, swimming with fire and arousal. His eyes fall to her panting lips, and the adorable little mole above them. He leans in and licks it before he can stop himself, tugging her upper lip with his teeth.

 

“Come on Bellamy.” She whines, chasing his mouth but he moves away, kissing behind her ear and sucking a mark there. He likes it when she begs, and when he hears his name emerge from her lips it takes all his willpower not to cream his pants like a teenage boy in heat. So he teases her more, mouth moving down the column of her throat and hands playing with her breasts. “Bellamy, if you don’t fuck me right now so help me god.” She demands. It's like the sparks have suddenly turned in a forest fire in his chest and he drops her unexpectedly, causing her to yelp.  He catches her, helps her steady on her feet, giving her a moment to recover from the sudden movements. 

 

With a hand on her side he guides her to the table and helps her up onto it, her legs spreading automatically to accommodate his hips. His hands slide up her thighs and she kisses him again, her tongue plunging into his mouth excitedly. He lets her takes control of the kiss, focuses his attention to getting her bra off, her skirt quickly following. He steps back for a moment, admiring the beauty in front of him. 

 

She watches him look at her, a smirk on her face when his eyes finally meet hers. “Condom?” he asks, eyes once again in a standoff of tension. She points to the chair, a purse in it. He steps back, watching her even as he unbuckles his belt and takes his impossibly hard cock out from its confines. She tries to keep his gaze, but stumbles a little. She smiles, a bit shy, then returns to her position in front of him. 

 

She opens the packet and helps him roll it on as he steps between her legs. She pushes at his pants until they fall to his knees, then takes his dick into her hand. He closes his eyes at the feeling of her soft hands, enjoying her light strokes and he kisses her shoulder. He lets his hand sneak between her legs, running his finger along the inside edge of her panties. The fabric is soaked through, and they both groan as he strokes her lightly through the cotton. 

 

“Come on now.” She says, voice broken and thumb coming out and flicking over the head of his cock. His hips thrust forward, making her smirk. “Come on and fuck me.” Her voice is teasing, almost daringly. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He grunts in her ear before sliding her underwear off. 

 

She helps him line up to her entrance. He meets her eyes, blue and swimming with her arousal. He slowly inches the head of his cock in, giving her time to adjust. She moans, nails digging into his shoulder as she clenches against the invasion. He waits until her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer to her to move. He starts slow, with a purposefully torturous pace, thrusting rhythmically, agonizingly. 

 

Of course it doesn’t last, not with her moaning filthy encouragements into his ear and raking her nails down his back. He speeds up, thrusting hard and fast, panting in her neck even as he kisses and licks at it. She begins thrusting back against him, making it all the better. He moans with her now, their breathless voices joined by the creaking of the table. 

 

When he feels himself getting closer, he moves a hand from her back between them. He finds her swollen clit, tapping it lightly a few times. She tenses, her inner walls squeezing him. He holds her hips with one hand, helping guide their thrusts as her lets his fingers fall on her nub in fast circles of pressure. 

 

She cries out, throws her head back and he can’t help but put his mouth back on the line of her throat. He sucks and licks and will probably leave a mark, but he doesn’t care because then she’s coming, and with a shout he follows. He catches himself on his arms, propped over her as she lays out on the table. When they’re done trembling through the aftershocks, he slowly pulls out of her. It takes him another moment before he can stand all the way up and begin getting redressed. She follows him, neither meeting his eyes or saying anything. 

 

He should say something, but he’s not sure what. He’s slept with people he just met before, but he had never wanted to see them again. He enjoyed his time with Clarke, and not just the amazing sex. Raven was right about this, but he’ll be damned if he tells her that. 

 

“So,” He starts, rubbing the back of his neck. She makes a sound, a little strained. He looks closely at her, but for once he can’t tell what she’s thinking. “I’d like to see you again, preferably somewhere with chairs and food.” He cringes as soon as he says it, but she smiles so he couldn’t be doing that bad. 

 

“I’d like that too.” She says softly, then she reaches up and kisses his cheek. He’s about to say more, but someone knocks of the door. She gives him a apologetic look then goes and opens it. “They’re ready to start the auction.” Someone says, and she meets his eyes again. He just nods, understanding that she need to go. 

 

When she’s gone he takes the time to look around at the art in the studio. He looks at the sketches he had thrown to the floor and realises they are of the paintings he was looking at hanging in the gallery. She must be the artist the exhibit is for. He starts to bite back a smile but lets it be, with nobody around to see. 

 

He can’t wait to get to know this woman, whoever she is. She intrigues him like no one ever has before, and day one he can already feel himself falling. He doesn’t worry about heartbreak like he usually does at the start of something. He thinks maybe, this is what the start of the rest of his life feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, kudos and reviews are the only motivation I have. I hope you enjoy, feel free to leave a critique, or anything you are hoping to see.


	3. No Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bellamy doesn't get a call from Clarke, he handles it the best he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get these updates out but life keeps kicking me in the ass. Enjoy :)

He spends all week thinking about her, wishing he had her number and could call her. Once the auction had started Clarke was busy for the rest of the showing, and as much as he wanted to wait around and see her again, Octavia was more than ready to go. He left his number on a sticky note stuck to the laptop sitting on the desk in her studio, so he figured he was okay to leave. 

 

But it’s been five days, and he hasn’t gotten a single call or text. He considers asking Raven for her number, even argues with himself about her already knowing she was right. In the end he decides she has his number and will call him if she wants to see him again. He goes into the weekend with that in mind, but it doesn’t stop him from jumping every time his phone goes off. 

 

The problem presents itself in its true form the next monday. It’s been nine days since the gallery show, not that he’s counting, and he  _ really _ wants to see her again. He can’t figure out why she hasn’t called him, and chickened out at asking Raven about it. They had a good time, not just the amazing sex. Plus, there was the amazing sex. She said she’d call, she seemed to mean it. The only explanation he can come up with is either she lied and hates him, or she never found the sticky note. 

 

Despite their little argument, which felt more like foreplay than anything, she acted as though she wanted to see him again. So after his monday morning classes he heads to the gallery. He figures the worst that can happen is she tells him he’s the worst and she never wants to see him again, which is at least better than spending his every waking moment thinking about it. The drive is long, with a wreck causing him to detour. It gives him plenty of time to try and calm his anxious stomach. 

 

He doesn’t ever stop feeling nervous, just wipes his clammy hands on his pants and opens the door to the gallery, which he finally takes note of the name of.  _ Trikru Art Rooms  _ is an odd name, and he makes a note to ask her about it. The front room is a supply store, and there’s someone sitting at the counter. He takes him time to look around a bit, buying himself time to get his courage up. 

 

He wishes people didn’t make him so awkward. Crowds don’t give him a problem, he could stand up and talk for hours about just about anything. But one on one? He’s a mess and he knows it. It’s probably why he sticks with the few people he has in his life, and got all of them through complete and total luck. 

 

When he finally makes it to the counter, the brunette sitting there smiles sweetly at him. “Anything I can help you find today?” He fidgets his hands. This was definitely a stupid idea, it’s not too late to turn back. “I was looking for Clarke.” The words tumble out of his mouth, and he must make a face because she gives him a concerned, inquisitive look. “She’s busy in the studio right now.” She says, tentative. “But I could call her, if you’d like.” He nods, holding his breath. 

 

She picks up the phone and dials, putting it to her ear before addressing him again. “What’s your name?” He gives it to her, and tries his best not to listen to the short conversation. She hangs up the phone and smiles at him, “She said you could go ahead. You know where it is?” He nods, thinking of the night he met her and how he knows where her studio is. As he walks there, he shakes his head to get rid of the thoughts. 

 

He stands at the door for a moment, staring at it and preparing himself. He honestly had no idea what she has been thinking about. Hell, he barely knows anything about her. But he wants to know her, is interested in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. So with one last deep breath, he knocks. “Come in.” He hears, and when he opens the door he finds her leaning against her desk. Her arms are crossed and he recognizes her stance as a defensive one. It feels a lot like walking into a room with a bomb. 

 

Their eyes meet and for a long moment they just stand there, just like that first night tension is thick. He bites his cheek, some of the nerves turning into frustration. “You are a very difficult woman, aren’t you?” It comes out as an accusation, not his best opening line. Her eyebrows shoot up, shocked at either his tone or his assessment. It hangs in the air for a moment. When she opens her mouth he expects a sharp resort. Instead she speaks calmly, “But you came here anyway.” Her eyes are a little sad, a little hopeful. It sparks some hope in his own chest. Maybe he still has a shot at this. 

 

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath and looks away, “You’re infuriating, but I can’t stop feeling like whatever this thing between us is, this feeling or whatever it is, is something I don’t want to miss out on.” He sighs, unsure if she even understands what he’s talking about. She’s silent long enough he raises his head to meet her eyes, and when he does he can see that she understands perfectly. She drops her arms to her side, slowly walks the few steps to him as if approaching a wild animal. They watch each other closely, both unsure of what the other is going to do. 

 

When she’s directly in front of him she reaches out and puts a hand on his chest. “I don’t want to miss out either.” She whispers, confessionally, “But I’m so scared.” Her eyes water a bit, and he doesn’t know what demons from her past haunt her, but damn does he want to help her fight them. He covers her hand with his own, looking deeply into her eyes and giving her a small smile, “So we’ll be careful.” 

 

She laughs, small and surprised. Then she nods, before rising to her tiptoes and kissing the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know if I can.” She whispers against his lips before kissing him fully. He kisses her back tentatively, trying to keep his promise of careful but she’s too much. She kisses him with fire and passion, and he eventually gives in. Her hands tangle in his hair and she moans softly. He runs his tongue along her lips and she opens them. 

 

They rip apart to the sound of the phone. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide. “I’m just gonna…” She trails off, half-stumbling to the desk phone and answering shakely. It lasts for less than minute, before he can even process what to do. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and when she turns around she looks as awkward as he feels. “I’ve got to..”

 

“Yeah of course.” He shakes his head, “I’ll go.” His mind his reeling, trying to figure out how to not let this end like last time. “I’ll call you this time.” She promises, before kissing his cheek. He chuckles, believing her. “You better.” She smiles at him and it’s blinding, he can’t help but smile back like an idiot. She leans up and kisses him once more, just a peck on the lips then turns and heads to the door. He follows like a puppy, a little in awe of her. 

 

She opens the door, but before she can say her last goodbye a child runs through the doorway and wraps himself around her legs. He’s small with a mess of blonde hair on his head. He pulls his gaze from the boy and back the Clarke, who is bending down and hugging him back. A noise pulls his attention back to the doorway. A middle aged woman is standing there with a baby in her arms. 

  
He looks at Clarke, who meets his eyes. He tilts his head in question, but she just shakes her head.  _ Later _ she mouths. He nods, already having a pretty good idea of what’s happening. “I’ll see you later.” He says, soft. She smiles just as soft, maybe a little grateful. As he slides past the woman in the doorway she gives him an intimidating look, but he ignores it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thoughts and critiques are encouraged and loved.


	4. Walking, Talking, and Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke start dating, barring complications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels kind of like a transition but I like it so, please enjoy.

She does call him this time. The very same night as their second encounter, late enough that he’s back from the museum and in his pajamas. He’s on the couch, fading in and out of consciousness as he grades papers, his second beer spilt and forgotten on the floor. He jumps to alertness when the phone rings, scrambling to find it and answer before it rings through. 

 

Half asleep and frazzled, he answers without checking the number, it’s past midnight so only a few people could be calling. “Yep.” He says through a yawn. A moment of silence has him looking to see the contact finally, noting it’s a number and not a name. “Hello?” He tried again. He hears a sigh, “Bellamy?” She sounds tired and a little hesitant, but it’s definitely Clarke. 

 

A smile plasters itself on his face without his permission, “Hey Clarke.” He responds, standing and leaving his mess on the coffee table. “Hey, I know it’s late. I didn’t, well I honestly didn’t expect you to answer.” She admits. He wonders, offhandedly, why she called then. But he doesn’t mention it, too happy she actually called. He settles onto his bed with the phone to his ear. 

 

“Well I was at work until about an hour ago, so it’s actually good you called this late.” He comments, hoping she’ll explain why she’s still up. “Security, right?” She says instead, then adds, “Raven told me you work at the museum .” He hums in affirmation, “Have for a couple of years now, though it’s not how I want to be working in the museum.” He looks at the clock on the bedside table, 12:34. 

 

“What are studying?” She asks through a yawn. “Latin and ancient history.”  He shakes his head, laughing a little. “You should get some sleep.” He mentions, not really wanting her to hang up. She sighs, long and suffered.  “I know. But I wanted to make plans to see you.” He smiles at that. He has no idea why he likes her so much, but damn him if he questions a good thing. 

 

“My first class isn’t until 10 on tuesdays and thursdays.” He offers, hoping she will want to see him as soon as he does. He can hear the smile in her voice as she responds, “I can do coffee at 8:30 ish. Do you have a place you like?” His brain is running a mile a minute as he gives her the address to the coffee shop he likes, and the call doesn’t last much longer than that, as they are both exhausted. He falls asleep soon after, barely managing to plug in his phone. 

 

He hits snooze too many times the next morning and doesn’t get up until 8. He frantically showers, feeling stupid for being so nervous still. He’s pretty sure if he was going to scare her off it would’ve happened at the studio. After a quick pep talk with himself while brushing his teeth, he leaves for the cafe. 

 

Grounders is a quaint coffee shop close to the campus. It’s a little quirky, with bookshelves and some really creepy art made out of dolls. But the weirdness is just the right type to scare off undergraduates, so he can struggle through mornings without running into any students. When he gets there, he’s just late enough to stress him out even more. He stands awkwardly at the entrance looking around for her. 

 

She’s sitting at a table by the window, looking out at the people. She’s distracted, so he goes ahead and orders. As he approaches her table he can see that she’s drawing in a sketchbook. “Hey.” He says, cursing himself for sounding nervous. She jumps a little, but when she looks at him she smiles brightly. He smiles back as he sits down. 

 

“Hey.” Her voice is soft, her lips still smiling. She puts her pencil down and closes her sketchbook, giving him her attention. There’s a bit of an awkward pause where neither of them know what to say. He’s about to say something, anything to fill the silence, when she begins speaking. “I want to get to know you. I want, I want to date you.” She states matter of factly. Despite her tone he can see that she’s nervous. He can’t imagine why she would be, he’s made it pretty clear that he wants that too.

 

“Okay.” He reaches out tentatively, taking her hand, “I want to too.” She sighs, and he tilts his head in question. “I come with a catch.” He has a pretty good idea what she’s talking about. He thinks back to leaving her office yesterday, to the kid hugging her. “I figured.” She lets out a breath and squeezes his hand. After a moment she speaks again, “I have two boys, and one of them is, well he’s having a hard time right now. I don’t even have the time to date, not really. But he goes to school during the day, and if you don’t mind my crazy life I want to spend time with you. And I can’t, I can’t give him any less just because I want to date. He still needs me.” 

 

She’s let go of his hand at this point, gesturing slightly as she talks. She’s saying he won’t get to see her much, especially not in the usual dating hours. But he really doesn’t mind, maybe it’s just him or maybe it’s the way he likes her. She’s still nervous about this conversation, so he gets the feeling it’s been a problem for past dates. He thinks about his next words, knowing his response will determine how their relationship goes. 

 

“I was raised by a single mom. And she tried her best, but she didn’t know how to prioritize us. I want whatever time you can give me.” She meets his eyes, smiling slightly, “I wouldn’t ever ask you to do anything other than put your kids first.” He adds, and he means it. 

 

“Okay.” She almost whispers. She clears her throat then continues, “Thank you.” He doesn’t think he deserves gratitude for being decent about her kids, but he accepts it anyway. They move into lighter conversation, about her art for a while than books they’ve read. He finds she reads a lot, and has an excellent memory. They’ve read a lot of the same books, and before he knows it it’s almost 10. 

 

When he realises the time, he regrettably tells her he has to leave. “Are you walking?” She asks, a slightly hopeful look on her face. He drove here, but it’s really not that far. So he tells her he is, and doesn’t argue when she says she’ll walk with him. When they leave, she hooks her arm with his. 

 

They walk mostly in silence, until his building is in sight. “What are their names?” He asks, because he can’t stop thinking about her kids. “What?” She asks, turning to look at him. “Your sons.” He clarifies. “Oh,” A smile creeps onto her face, “Ben, is 5, and Braden is the baby, he’s 6 months.” He wants to ask about their dad, but he gets the feeling she really doesn’t want to talk about him. So he leaves it at that. 

 

When the get close he stops, “I’m glad you called.” He tells her, and she reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He fights the urge to reach up and touch it, and the smirk on her face says she can tell. “Thank you, I really enjoyed talking with you.” Her smile goes soft, and she grabs his had to squeeze it. “Can we do it again? Thursday maybe?” Her request is timid. How she can still be unsure he wants this he may never understand. “Yeah, of course. And I’ll call you.” She kisses his cheek again before leaving, and he watches her walk for a minute before turning and going his own way. 

 

He calls that night but gets voicemail. The sick, anxious feeling stays with him until the next morning. He wakes up to a few texts from her, and they go back and forth for the rest of the day. When they meet on thursday, they leave early enough to walk around instead of just straight to the university, which he likes a lot. He enjoys every minute with her, even if they’re just silently existing in the same place. It barely takes two weeks for him to realise he’s in deep. 

 

It’s a month of coffee and walks before he asks her on a formal date. As soon as the words leave his mouth she looks like a train is coming at her. “Or we could just do this.” He tries not to be disappointed, after all she did warn him. Her face goes through several emotions in a few seconds, and it settles on something close to determination. 

 

“I want to.” She argues. He sighs, unwilling to fight about this. “Hey.” She reaches across the table and takes his hand. “I do. I just have to figure timing out.” She looks so earnest that he nods in agreement, but he doesn’t really believe her. It’s her turn to sigh, “I mean it Bellamy.” they both drop it, but he can tell somethings off for the rest the day. 

 

The next time they meet she’s later than him, which hasn’t happened before. She sits down without ordering and goes straight to the point, “Saturday night, my mother’s watching the boys and I think Ben’s in a place where he can handle it.” She looks pleased with herself, and damn excited. He has to return her smile, “So we’re going on a date?” She shakes her head, “We’ve already been dating.” She gestures between them. “You know what I mean.” The smile on her face says that she does. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their formal date is next and I am excited :) Thank you for reading!


	5. Dinner and A Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke have their date, and the past in finally talked about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little longer, but it kind of covers a lot I think. Nothing says a good time like dragging the past back up.

Saturday comes around and he meets Raven for lunch. It’s not one of their standing lunches, but she had requested it and he has a feeling it has to do with Clarke. Other than minor mentions, they haven’t talked about his new dating situation. He’s not sure who’s avoiding the topic, maybe both of them.

When she sits down across from him, she stares him down for a moment. He stares back, trying to figure out what’s going on in her mind. Eventually she sighs, breaking the eye contact and looking down at the menu as if they don’t eat here all the time. He lets her order, and takes up small talk while they wait for her drink. Once she gets it she takes a long sip and looks him dead in the eye.

“Do you remember Finn?” She finally asks. He’s thrown by the question, it’s been at least a year since he’s heard of Raven’s ex. “Oh course.” He tells her, thinking back. They had all been in undergrad together, Raven and Finn the sweethearts. When Raven joined a program for aerospace engineering and left for Houston, her and Finn had continued a long distance relationship. He had moved upstate to work and barely kept up with the rest of them.

It all came to a stop last year when she found out he had been cheating on her. Bellamy himself never got the full story on what had happened, but apparently it was just one woman, and when confronted he told Raven he loves them both, but was choosing the other woman. He hasn’t heard anything since, but Raven had always liked to keep things personal so he didn’t think too much about it.

“The other woman, if you can even call her that, was Clarke.” Her words hit him and he sits there for a moment trying to process this. His initial reaction is to be angry at Clarke. Not just for ruining Ravens relationship but for letting him get this involved and not telling him. He tells himself its irrational, but he can’t stop himself from questioning her. With so many questions running through his head he doesn’t know where to start.

Before he can even try she speaks again, “And before you get pissy you need to listen to the whole story.” He swallows hard, embarrassed by not only his reaction but how often he apparently does it. “They met her sophomore year, which would have been right after I left. She never knew anything about me, but not even a year after they met they were married. Ben and Braden are both his, and he wasn’t very good to them.” She pauses to study his face, which he’s pretty sure is frozen in a state of shock. “She actually contacted me when she found out. We both kind of expected the other to hate us, but both ended up hating Finn together instead. She was pregnant and had just moved here to be with her mom, and I had planned to move back anyway. We became best friends and I wouldn’t change any of it.”

He processes everything he’s just learned. He can’t be mad at Clarke, not only is it not his place but it's not her fault. And she never really tried to hide anything from, she just didn’t tell him. Which he’s a little hurt about, but understands. He’s not really sure what to do with this information, though he’s glad he has it. It makes everything add up. Clarke’s uneasiness with dating, how Ben needs Clarke around, why Raven has such a good friend that she didn’t bring around before.

“Don’t tell her I told you all of this.” Raven adds, bringing him out of his thoughts. He agrees, though he knows he’s going to. The last thing he needs right now is to be lying. He needs to process everything and prepare to talk to Clarke before their date tonight, so he excuses himself shortly after their conversation ends. Part of him wants to listen to Raven and not tell Clarke he knows, but he knows it will bite him in the ass later. Besides, he wants them to be able to have an open and honest relationship. Not that she’s been very open, but he really can’t fault her for it. She was up front about not being able to be up front, and he’s always known she had a lot going on in her life.

Later that day, he’s on his way to pick up Clarke. He’s dressed in slacks and a button up, fancy enough without being over the top. He’s taking her to a nice, family owned restaurant that he happens to know the owner of. He likes it mostly because of the privacy it offers, and it’s got a glass wall that faces the river, a view he loves.

He pulls up to the house and takes a moment to take in her home. It’s two stories, with a circle drive and beautiful flower garden he knows Clarke didn’t plant. He sits in his car and wonders if her kids are there, or if they’re at her moms. He’s tried not to think too much about what her sons must be like. He wants to meet them, but he doesn’t want to push her before she’s ready. If he thinks to much about how little he’s actually learned about her in the few months they’ve been dating he worries she doesn’t really want to be him. But he knows she does, that she’s just scared from what happened with Finn.

He gets out of the car and walks to the door, taking a deep breath before ringing the bell. There's a long moment that could have been a second, but feels like forever, before the woman he had seen with the kids at the gallery opens the door. She gives him a hard, protective look and he knows this is her mother. “Hello, I don’t think we’ve properly met.” She tells him, voice skeptical. He gives her a small smile and offers his hand, “Bellamy Blake, nice to meet you.”

She shakes his hand with a firm grip, “Abby Kane.” She tells him, then gestures to invite him inside.

The foyer of the house opens into a large living space, where a baby lays on a playmat surrounded by toys and books. Abby picks him up and he makes a happy sound. For a moment he remembers being 10, holding Octavia while she was about that age and loving the little baby sounds she tried to make into words. He looks back up to Abby’s face and is about to ask where Clarke is when she speaks, “Do you want to hold him?” It’s more than a offer, it’s a genuine question. As if she doesn’t believe he would want to be around a baby.

He smiles, because of course he does. And without a word she hands him the toddler. He grabs at his shirt, happily grumbling about whatever it is going on in his world. Bellamy doesn’t understand a single word of it, but he talks back cheerfully, carrying the conversation into nowhere. “You can sit down, I’m going to go see what’s keeping Clarke.” He hears Abby speak, but doesn’t look up from the kid in his arms.

He sits down, studying Braden’s face. His eyes are as blue as Clarke’s, and he’s got cheeks so chubby the almost swallow is face. He’s pretty sure he’s old enough, at 10 months, to have lost most of the newborn fat. His cheeks are just that chubby. He keeps talking with him, moving on to the book he’s reading. For a moment he forgets where he’s at, that he’s waiting for someone to go on a date with him. All he can think about is how this must be the world's happiest, and chattist baby.

“Hey.” He hears Clarke’s soft voice. He looks up and sees her leaning against the doorway. She’s in a blue dress that matches her eyes perfectly, and he can’t help but gawk a little. She’s smiling, her eyes soft and happy. He wonders how long she’s been standing there. “You ready to go?” He asks, unsure why his voice comes out so soft. She nods and moves towards him. He stands up and hands her Braden, who holds onto him.

They chuckle as they pry Braden from his grip on Bellamy’s shirt and into Clarkes arms. He begins to cry, and the sound breaks his heart. Clarke smiles at him again, “I’m just going to give him to my mom.” She says over his cries, and he nods. It only takes her a moment, she’s back before his mind can even start to wonder. She hooks her arm in his and smiles brightly at him before leading him out the door.

As soon as it clicks shut and he feels the evening air on his face he stops her. She gives him a questioning look, which he answers with a mischievous smile. He puts a hand on her cheek, leaning in close and kissing her lips softly. She hums in contentment and he lets himself really kiss her. They’ve shared kisses before, but never like this. Never this long or with this much intent.

When he pulls back her cheeks are flushed and he knows his are too. She smiles, eyes still closed and he can’t help but laugh. It’s not humorous, but a joyful laugh he feels all through him. When her eyes open they swim with different blues, the way he’s learned they do when she’s thinking. It’s like watching the gears turn in her head, each a new blue but just as beautiful. “Lets go.” He whispers, not really meaning to.

They don’t talk on the ride to the restaurant. It’s something he’s found with Clarke that he’s never had with anyone before, compatible silence. She holds his hand, running her finger along the groves and humming along to the radio. He could spend forever like this, he realizes. Just being in her presence is enough to calm the impossible storm his emotions constantly are.

They keep mostly silent until they’re sitting at the table, and though it still doesn’t bother him, he can tell it’s starting to get to her. They order their drinks and he smiles warmly at her, “How as your day been?” She lets out a half sigh, half laugh. “Crazy,” She tells him, “I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to make it.” She adds, sounding a little apologetic. She shouldn’t, so he tells her as much, “Hey, you know it would have been okay. I know you have other priorities.”

She shakes her head like he’s missed the point. “How was your day?” She changes the subject. They easily flow into conversation, casual like they usually do. But he wants to talk, really talk to her. He needs to tell her what Raven told him, and he has so many questions. He thinks about his wording, and considers how much he really wants to have this conversation, while they order their food.

His thoughts must be written all over his face, because as the waiter walks away she addressed him with a distant voice, “Whatever you have to say, say it.” She takes him by surprise, he hasn’t heard her sound this unattached in a long time. He realizes she might think he’s breaking up with her, and it just makes the water he’s treding that much more dangerous. “Clarke,” He starts and her face hardens even more. She sits up straighter and he knows she’s preparing for a fight.

“Raven told me about Finn.” He bites the bullet, hoping when she knows what he wants to talk about she’ll let her defenses down. It doesn’t work. She crosses her arms, something he knows she does unconsciously when she wants to protect herself. “And?” She bites out. This isn’t going well. He’s not sure how he expected it to go, but this is not it. “And I would have rathered that you were the one to tell me, but I’m glad I know.”

“I wasn’t ready to tell you.” He can hear the fight in her voice. He doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t want to know things she doesn’t want him to. But it’s been months, and she’s still too guarded. He sighs, trying his best not to rise to the argument despite his instincts screaming to. “I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes, “I didn’t mean for it to go like this.” When he opens his eyes hers have softened a little, but her defenses are still up.

“We’ve been doing whatever this is for months now, and I understand if you’re not ready but,” He takes a deep breath, because he needs to say this now that he has the words, “You never talk about anything real. I want to know you, all of it. I’ve done everything I can to prove to you I’m not going to mess this up.” He meets her eyes and finds them watery, but he can’t stop, “I feel like I’m the only one really invested in this and I’m only going to let that be enough for so long.” She doesn’t look like she’s fighting anymore. If he’s honest with himself, she looks broken. Though he knows better, knows that she’s too strong to break. He might of hurt her, something he didn’t mean to do, but it needs to be discussed.

“I don’t,” She starts, looks down and tries again, “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s in the past, why isn’t right now enough?” By the end she’s looking at him again, her eyes and voice stubborn. “Because it’s not about this one thing, it’s about you saying something real.” He tries to make her understand, but she’s already shaking her head. “I need time Bellamy. After the divorce I thought I’d never be with someone again, never trust someone. I’m trying but it’s not that easy.”

“It’s not in the past if it’s keeping you from opening up to me.” He can hear the frustration leaking into his voice. She opens her mouth and he knows how this is going, so he sighs and raises his hand to halt her, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. If you don’t want to let me in that’s your choice.” He knows he sounds angry because he is. He’s so invested in her, in this, and she doesn’t even understand the problem. There’s no point in fighting with her if she’s already made up her mind.

“Don’t be like that.” She sighs, sounding a little defeated. The waiter arrives with their food. They politely accept it, and a weird tension settles over them. He wishes he could take it all back. At the same time he’s glad he’s said it, tired of standing on the edge and never jumping. He almost starts up a conversation, but he can tell she’s thinking about something.

They eat quickly and quietly, and it drives him crazy. It’s not until they’re sitting in the car that he dares to talk. “I didn’t mean to start a fight.” She just sighs, so he tries again, “This was supposed to be a good night. I had a whole thing planned and I was going to, it doesn’t matter, but you were suppose to enjoy tonight. Our first formal date and I screwed it all up.” He doesn’t expect an answer from her, so he starts the car and prepares to leave.

“Bellamy.” She says so softly he almost doesn’t hear her, but she places her hand on his arm and he turns to look at her. All the fight has left her. He’s not sure if it’s a good thing. “I’m sorry.” She doesn’t elaborate and he’s not sure what she’s apologizing for, but he forgives her anyway. When he’s out on the street he doesn’t ask what she wants to do, just heads for her house. They’re about halfway there before she speaks again. “What did you plan?”

It takes a moment for his mind to catch up, but when he does he smiles slightly. “We were going to walk the river. There’s this ice cream place about a half a mile down that’s a good turn around spot.” He doesn’t mention that he was hoping to be taking her home with him after, he has no way of knowing if she would have wanted to even if tonight had went differently. “Are you taking me home?” She sounds sad, and his heart breaks a little. He’s not sure how or why he let things get like this. “Yeah, I figured you wanted me to.” There’s a pause, then very quietly she asks, “Will you take me home with you instead?” He wasn’t expecting that, but he agrees.   
When he pulls up to his apartment building he gets out and goes to meet her as she gets out of the car. She won’t meet his eyes, but she lets him hold her hand when he tries. He feels like he’s holding his breath the whole way up. His hands shake as he unlocks his door, he hopes she doesn’t notice. When he lets her in she looks around silently for a moment, walking through the kitchen and living space before settling on his couch.

He looks at her for a moment, appreciating how beautiful she looks tonight. He’s had so much on his mind he hasn’t really complimented her. He suddenly feels really crappy, he was suppose to give her a fun night and he’s made it a fight. There’s too much nervous energy coursing through him to sit down, so he leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

There’s a long moment where neither of them speaks, instead choosing their next words carefully. “When I met Finn, it felt like everything happening at once.” She starts. He watches her as she speaks, her eyes glued to his coffee table. “It was so fast, we were never just friends, and then we were married before we’d even known each other a year.” He can hear the emotion in her voice, and he feels the need to comfort her. He moves to sit on the couch next to her, close enough that she feels his presence but far enough as not to crowd her.

“When I got pregnant the first time, he was so excited. We both were and I thought,” She laughs, a sad and angry sound that breaks his heart, “I thought everything was perfect, and that it was always going to be. I had no idea about Raven. But she wasn’t the worst thing he did to us.” Her hands are shaking, and he tentatively reaches out to take one in his own. She lets him, even turns and scoots closer to put her head on his shoulder. He adjusts so that she’s against his side with his arm around her.

“I had a miscarriage when I was a little over 5 months.” She whispers. He kisses her hairline as she continues, “He, I don’t know what happened in his mind. I thought it was grief, god knows I was a little broken. But, when I told him I was pregnant with Ben he just, lost it.” He squeezes her, imagining all kinds of things he could have done. “Not like that. He wasn’t ever a violent person. But he just, ignored it. He pretended I wasn’t pregnant. Anytime I brought it up he got angry, told me I had lost the baby and that we weren’t having one.” He can’t hear the difference in her voice, but he feels the wetness on his shirt where she’s started crying.

Her hand squeezes his as she continues, “When Ben was born he didn’t come to the hospital. When I brought him home he pretended not to see him. You haven’t met him, but Ben is such an amazing kid. I kept telling myself he’d see it, that one day he’d get over it and realise he did love his son. I was so naive I didn’t even see how it was hurting Ben, how it messed with his head to be ignored like that.” She shifts, turning so they can see each others faces. Her eyes are red and filled with tears that follow the path down her cheek one by one.

“When I figured out I was pregnant again, I realized I couldn’t stay with him. That I had to put my kids first even if it meant leaving what I knew.” She takes a deep breath, collecting herself. “Once I had left, I started feeling like it wasn’t really love in the first place. I can’t put a name on it, something like infatuation with the life he promised me.” He smiles softly at her, “Thank you for telling me.” He whispers. She smiles back and he wipes the tears from her face. “Do you want to know the worst part?” He nods, and she shakes her head a little. “When I gave him the divorce papers, he suddenly cared so much. He kept saying we were going to make a family, that I had to stay and give him a chance. Then when I left anyway, he, he,” Her pulled together demeanor crashes and she starts shaking again.

“He kept calling, showing up where I was, mailing me pictures of myself. Then just after I had Braden, Raven was living with us at the time.” She shudders, pulling herself closer to him. “I wasn’t home at the time, Braden had a bad cold and I had taken him to my moms. Raven and Ben were supposed to be having building night. I’m not sure which one of them likes legos more.” She chuckles a little, a real sound that makes him smile. “He lit the house on fire. Police found him a mile away, drunk off his ass and covered in gasoline.”

He feels angry, not just at Finn for all he’s put her through, but at the world for letting it happen. It’s irrational, he knows that on some level. He also feels an odd sense of pride, for all she’s overcome. Somehow, he’s lucky enough to be the one holding her right now. He doesn’t say anything, just holds her until she’s stopped crying and shaking. After a while, when she’s calm and he can feel the emotional exhaustion seeping through both of them, he puts his mouth next to her ear and very softly asks, “Do you want to sleep here?” She nods, and together they stand.

He takes her to his bedroom and through to the bathroom, gives her a shirt and drawstring sweatpants. It feels domestic, moving around his tiny bathroom getting ready for the night. They barely talk, but when they do it’s soft and quiet and he’s not sure this spell will ever break. When they’re in bed he wraps himself around her and she hums contently. He’s almost asleep, sure that she’s asleep too when she speaks, “Bellamy?” He hums to let her know he’s awake. “Thank you.” He doesn’t know what she’s thanking him for, so he kisses her jaw and tells her she’s welcome. He hears her saying something else a minute later, but sleep overcomes him and he misses the words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying it. As always, thank you for reading!


	6. Second (time) Is Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after their date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, it's pretty much just smut. Enjoy :)

Bellamy wakes up alone, and once he’s awake enough to remember the day before he nearly jumps out of bed. He can’t figure out why Clarke would have left, unless something happened and she needed to get to the boys. Still, he hopes she would have woken him up. He spends a couple moments panicking, until he hears the sink running in the bathroom. 

He sighs with relief, feeling a little stupid for panicking. He settles back against the headboard to wait for her. A moment later the bathroom door opens and Clarke emerges. She smiles brightly at him and he swears he’s never seen anything better. 

“Good morning.” He returns her smile, still a little unsure of where they stand after yesterday. “Morning.” She climbs onto the bed and fits herself against his side, clasping his hand in her own. She’s warm and soft when he wraps her up in his arms, sighing contently as she rests her head on him. They just sit there for a while, holding each other, safe in their own little bubble. His hand finds its way under her shirt, gently stroking the soft skin of her stomach. 

“Bellamy.” She says so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He turns his head to look at her. Her lips land on his and she kisses him with soft yet insenstint pressure. He lets her led the kiss, moving his lips with hers but never taking over. She shifts, changing the angle and kissing him deeper. It becomes a dominating kiss, one where she pours emotion from her mouth into his. 

Before he knows it, she’s in his lap and kissing him in earnest. Aside from the first day, they haven’t really done much like this. A few kisses here and there, but they always felt sweet and innocent. This, having her on him and making out with passion, is something he’s been thinking about for months. 

His hands find there place on her hips just as she pulls back. Her eyes are wild with swirling blues and he can’t look away. She studies his face, then smirks wickedly. He doesn’t know what she saw, but he doesn’t dare try and question her as she moves her lips to his jaw. She brushes her lips teasingly down his neck, drags her tongue back up it with purpose, and then nips at his earlobe before sucking right behind it. 

He groans, his hips flexing up into her on their own accord. She giggles softly, placing a few wet kisses along the column of his throat. Her hands tug at the hem of his shirt until he takes it off, and she copies his motions, taking off her own. Immediately after the garments are discarded her hands begin roaming his chest, tracing the bumps and grooves with soft hands. Her mouth joins them, sometimes teasing his neck and other times sucking and kissing at his chest or shoulder. 

His own hands slide up and down her back. He wants to touch her so bad, but she seems to have her own plans and he’ll be damned if he gets in the way. He settles for admiring her exposed tits and enjoying the feeling of her hands and mouth on him. Not that it’s much of a compromise, he definitely enjoys it. 

“Baby.” She says, breathless and pleading. The sound goes straight through him and his cock twitches. She must feel it, because she smirks, grinding down on him and making him moan softly. “Baby, I want your cock.” She nips at his chin, looking up at him with big, blue eyes. He slides his hands down and grabs her ass, grinding her down on him again. 

Her eyes flutter closed at the friction, “Oh yeah, babe? How do you want it?” He captures her lips, kissing her hard. “Tell me.” He demands when they pull apart. She meets his eyes, pupils blown wide as she speaks, “In my mouth. Fuck Bell, I want your cock in my mouth.” Her words make him grunt, his head nodding in agreement without input from his brain. 

“Well go on then.” She moves down the bed, dragging his sweatpants with her. His breath is already coming in short pants, just her gaze on him enough to drive him crazy. He lifts his hips and they shuffle for a moment as they get rid of the rest of his clothes. She bites her lip, looking intently at his hard cock and making him blush.

He reaches out and traces her lips with his thumb, pulling it from its place behind her teeth. She shifts her head, causing the digit to move into her mouth. Before he can move is hand away though, she closes her lips and sucks softly. Her eyes are teasing, captivating him just as much as her mouth. He lets her have it for a moment, making it a point not to stifle his moan so that she knows just what she does to him. When he pulls his hand back she just grins at him. 

Her hand wraps around him and she gives him light strokes, not taking her eyes off of what she’s doing. “God, babe, look at you. Already so hard for me.” She licks her lips, looking up to catch his gaze. Their eyes meet and he’s reminded of that first time, when everything was both a standoff and a competition. She’s barely even touched him and he feels like he’s about to burst. 

She holds eye contact as she leans forward and licks a broad, hard strike up his dick. He moans, not daring to take his eyes off her. She has him right where she wants him. “Baby.” She places teasing kisses along his shaft sporadically. “Baby I want to suck you so bad.” Her voice is teasing, pleading as if she couldn’t do anything she wanted to him right now. 

He hadn’t really expected her to want this much dirty talk, but she keeps trying to spur him on. Damn him for being too overwhelmed to give it to her before. “Is that all? You know you can have anything you want beautiful.” She runs her tongue around the head of his cock, licking up the precum that’s gathered there, before placing a kiss right on the tip. “Go on sweet thing, go on and suck my cock.” At his urging she finally wraps her lips around him and sucks sweetly. 

“That’s it. Fuck you look so perfect with my cock in your mouth. You’re fucking perfect.” She takes him deeper, slowly working him while he lets his words flow freely. “I’ve been thinking about it, ya know, having your pretty mouth on me. Every damn time it gets me hard, gets me touching myself.” She moans around him, making him moan in return. 

He weaves a hand into her hair, gathering it up and holding it away from her face. “You like that baby? Me thinking about this while I jack off? Bet you do.” She releases him and he whines. She looks him dead in the eye, “I want to taste you come.” It sounds more like an order than anything, and it has his cock twitching in her hand. She licks him from base to tip, her tongue circling the ridge of his dick, before she takes him back into her mouth, deeper this time. 

He hits the back of throat a few times, each making her gag a little and him lose what control he had left on his mouth. After a few times, she relaxes and takes him down her throat. Once she has all of him she looks up, meeting his eyes with a gloating look in her eyes. “Fuck.” He groans, feeling himself about to lose it. She pulls back just enough to breath then takes him again. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.” 

Then she fucking swallows around him, and he’s done for. He comes with a gruntal moan, hands tight in her hair. She pulls back some, but keeps him in her mouth so she can swallow his cum. When he’s completely spent, she finally releases him with a filthy pop and he groans. She sits on his thigh, smirking and running her hands up and down his chest. “That good?” She asks, teasing him. 

He laughs, “You damn well know it was.” His arms wrap around her and he pulls her in for a kiss. She still has his taste on her tongue, but neither of them shy away from that. He kisses her thoroughly, licking into her mouth until the taste is gone. “Now come on baby.” He slaps her ass playfully, “Let me have my turn.” 

She’s giggling as she lays back down on the bed. He climbs on top of her, kissing her all over her face and neck. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to make her laugh like that for the rest of his life, but that’s unimportant right now. She doesn’t stop giggling, not until he makes it down to her tits and starts sucking marks onto them. Her laugh becomes a moan, her fingers tangling into his hair. He flicks her nipple back and forth with his tongue, catching it between his teeth to give it a gentle tug. 

“What do you want baby? Tell me.” He kisses a path down her stomach to tease the waistband of the sweats she wears. “Your mouth.” She chokes out. He smirks up at her, satisfied that they’ve switched positions. “Where do you want my mouth?” He bites at her stomach, sucking a hickey there and laving it over with his tongue. “I want it on me.” She whines, but he just tsks, “Where on you, baby? Come on and tell me.” 

She groans, only half annoyance. “Bell.” She tugs his hair, but he just chuckles. “Tell me where you want my mouth and I’ll give it to you. But I want to hear the dirty words come out of your pretty mouth.” She moans again, taking a deep breath before finally complying. “I want your mouth on my pussy,” He starts to remove the sweats she wears, satisfied, but she’s not done, “I want you to lick my pussy, to make me come all over your mouth and then I want to taste it off your lips.” 

By the time she’s done, she’s practically panting and he has her completely naked before him. He looks at her exposed sex, sees that she’s soaked. “You’re so wet baby.” He tells her, teasing her with soft kisses along her outer lips. He can taste her even there, feel where her slickness has made her sticky all the way to the tops of her thighs. She groans something that sounds like it was supposed to be his name.

“Tell me something,” He licks into her then, hard and fast, causing her to cry out. “Is it all this talk that’s got you so hot?” He repeats the motion, “Or sucking my cock?” He wraps his lips around her swollen clit, sucking hard. She thrashes before him, her fingers pulling tight at his hair. “Both, fuck, all of it.” 

They don’t manage to say much after that, though he’s pretty sure she tries. He licks at her over and over, lapping up her sweet juices and placing teasing kisses on her clit every so often. She moans and whines and pulls hard at his hair, but he can barely feel it. He’s so addicted to the taste of her he can’t even think straight. 

Finally, she manages to get her sounds to come together into a coherent thought, “Fingers, Bell.” It would have sounded like an order if her voice wasn’t so wrecked. He moves to suck on her clit, letting his tongue play with it while he slips a finger into her. He meets no resistance, so he adds another. He doesn’t thrust though, instead just crocking his fingers back and forth. She arches off the bed, trying to grind against him, so he wraps an arm around her to hold her down. 

“Bellamy.” She whines, but he just chuckles against her. He kisses her everywhere he can reach. After a moment of searching his fingers finally finds her g-spot. She starts moaning even louder, whining and groaning unabashedly. He thrusts his fingers with purpose now, simulating the bundle of nerves relentlessly. 

She’s coming around his fingers in a few short moments. Her inner walls clench down on his fingers and a fresh gush of fluids seeps out of her, which he laps up as quickly as it comes, moaning at the sweet and tangy taste of her. She pulls him up to her, kissing the smug look off his face. 

As promised, she licks herself off his mouth causing them both to moan. He gets carried away kissing her. He’s so caught up in it he gasps half in surprise when her hand wraps around his shaft. He’s hard again, which is no surprise considering how much he loved eating her out. She rubs him against her wet center, teasing her swollen clit as she goes. 

“Hold on.” He mutters, shifting to dig through is bedside table for a condom. She makes a displeased sound but doesn’t argue. They get it on him and back into their position in no time at all. He lines himself up, meeting her eyes, and pushes in. 

His mouth drops open and she moans low in the throat. It’s so much better this time, knowing and loving her, then it was when it was hot and fast. He begins thrusting slow and deep, savoring this moment with her. They don’t break eye contact, something he’s never done during sex before. It’s more than just looking at her, they’re looking into each others eyes. He moans more than he usually would, not just because it’s good but to keep his mouth busy so he doesn’t say something that shouldn’t be said the first time during sex. 

Her legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer and urging him on. He keeps his pace slow and steady, but lets himself thrust harder and consequently deeper. She meets his thrusts with perfect rhythm, he’s never been this in sync with someone but of course it’d be with her. Her nails rake over his shoulders and biceps, leaving angry red lines in their wake. “Please.” She begs, though he doesn’t know what she’s begging for. “Oh fuck, please.” Her eyes close and her face scrunches up, he knows she’s close. 

He lets himself start picking up the pace. “Yes!” She cries, and now he knows what she wants. He steadily goes faster, until she can barely keep up and the headboard is hitting the wall with every thrust. “Bell!” She yells as she clenches down around him hard, and he doesn’t stand a chance. “Fuck.” He comes with her, losing every thought in his head that’s not her and how good he feels.

He pulls out and collapses next to her. He catches his breath then ties and tosses the condom, deeming it a problem for later. She tucks herself into his side and kisses his shoulder. After a moment, when the aftershocks are gone and they’re just sitting there enjoying their bliss, a laugh bubbles out of him. 

“What?” She asks, a little shy. He squeezes her, placing a smiling kiss to her head. “I’m really fucking lucky, you know that?” She tilts her head to look at him, a smile on her face, “Yeah, I know the feeling.” The lay there, holding each other, and there’s nothing in the world he would change. 

Eventually they get up and clean themselves up. They go into the kitchen and he whips up some eggs for egg sandwiches. They’re sitting on the couch, her feet in his lap and some weird game show on the TV when an alarm goes off on Clarkes phone. She gives him a sheepish smile, “I have to leave to get the boys soon.” she explains. 

He nods, understanding, but still doesn’t want to let her go quite yet. He’s thinking of ways to avoid is when she asks, “Can I ask you something?” She sits up, moving to cross her legs under her. He sits up straighter, getting the feeling this is a serious conversation. “Of course.” He tells her and he means it, all he wants is for her to be open and honest with him. 

“Do you want to meet my boys?” She bites her lip, nervous. He smiles at her, because she really shouldn’t be. He nods, “Yeah, if, um, you know I met Braden yesterday. If you want me to, then I’d love to meet Ben.” The nervous look drops off her face and she smiles, “I really would. Maybe we could do dinner next week? I’d have to give Ben plenty of time to prepare, but he knows I’ve been dating.” 

They agree on next friday. And though she claims she’s going to cook, he plans on doing it anyway. He wishes it could happen sooner for his own sanity, but he understands. He offers to drive her home, but she insists she can call an uber despite his protests. She does let him walk her to it, and kisses him longer than probably appropriate for pubic before she gets in. As he watches the car drive away, he realizes just how gone he really is. It’s only been a few months, and he’s in love with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything you want to see happen at the dinner? I'm really excited to introduce Ben.


End file.
